


don't care if heaven won't take me back

by gay_writes_with_mac



Series: Prodigal Son [6]
Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Angels, Angst, F/M, Fluff, and i like it, but i wrote this little thing, can you tell i nonironically ship destiel in 2021, dani powell is dean coded, i want to make this a whole fic, so here it is
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:14:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29294241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gay_writes_with_mac/pseuds/gay_writes_with_mac
Summary: i wish i couldn't feel a damn thingdani powell can't stop swinging. not until she has nothing left to give.angels don't exist. but if they did, she'd never be worthy of one. she isn't worthy of heaven.and if that's true, the angel who calls himself bright doesn't want to be of heaven anymore.no matter how much it hurts, no matter how hard it gets, you got to keep grinding
Relationships: Malcolm Bright/Dani Powell
Series: Prodigal Son [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2019443
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	don't care if heaven won't take me back

**Author's Note:**

> I want to make this a whole fic! I just got excited and posted this early after putting it up on my Tumblr.

dani, who’s been running so long she’s forgotten what it’s like to have her lungs not ache. dani, who’s lost everything there is to lose. dani, stumbling through life with a bottle in one hand and a gun in the other, and god knows how little it could take for the next temple that gun kisses to be her own.

and then she finds an angel.

_an angel._  
she thinks she’s crazy at first but no matter how hard she pinches herself he’s still right in front of her, and he is beautiful. his name is saraphiel but he tells her to call him bright. and it’s perfect. he glows, inside and out, and his eyes burn with sparks of holy fire when she gazes into them.

and she fears him, at first. but he’s gentle and he’s good and he’s kind. he bends down to stroke a baby bear like a kitten and the mother bear allows it. she allows dani, too, and her hand sinks into plush black fur and her heart swells just a little. he sits in the passenger seat of her rattling impala and listens to her music without complaint. sometimes he even hums along.

he’s an angel and she loves him. but he does not love her. bright’s orders are to protect dani powell, so protect he will. there is nothing in his orders about loving her.

she’s hemmed in by demons and he calls for her to shield her eyes. even behind her hand the brightness is terrible, and when she opens then again there is no one there but bright.

he doesn’t love her.

a man from years ago splits her lip and blacks her eye. bright’s fingers touch her cheek and her wounds are no more. he looks at her and sees a creature worthy of heaven’s grace.

he must not love her.

her curls smell like pine air freshener. she hasn’t cleaned her car in three months. she sleeps with a knife under her pillow and she only sings along to the radio when the song’s about blood.

he _can’t_ love her.

so he protects her. because he can do that much. he is an angel and he cannot love. would he even know how if he chose to? but he knows how to protect.

she bleeds and he drains his grace to heal her. she falls and he dashes himself against the rocks to make her a soft place to land.

she’s only human. humans are fragile. even angels can’t always break their falls.

she goes to hell and he fights her way back out again. it’s his orders. to protect her.

until those orders change. until there’s someone else in need of a guardian angel. until his orders are no longer to protect her.

the choice is there. the choice has always been there. lucifer fell from his throne but left behind on the gilded seat the choice, and not even god could overthrow that.

it’s always been there. he’s just never considered it before.

she cleans her car. she remembers to change the tree-shaped pine air freshener and the scent lingers on in her curls. her lip splits and no one knits it back together. her grip tightened around the knife under her pillow.

heaven has no more need for her. so the angel saraphiel is heaven no longer.

he rips out his grace as he falls and it hurts. but the ground is soft when he lands upon it. not soft enough, though, and when he lifts his arm, he has begun to bleed.

humanity lends no tint to the life flowing through his veins. no novelty, no excitement. but for the first time, he has spilt his blood without willing it from his body.

he finds dani and she knows. for the first time, he sleeps in the impala while her music crackles on into the night. he showers in every motel and still the smell of pine settles upon him. he wakes up at her side every morning in a different room, but always with his arm around her waist. they fight together during the day and fall into bed together at night and the ache in his back and the warmth she sends through his body are sweeter than heaven’s nectar.

not to say he doesn’t miss it. of course he misses it. she bleeds and all he can do is hold a wad of cotton to the wound and line her face with kisses and pray she doesn’t need stitches. he can no longer vaporize a threat against her. he needs to sleep, now, and leaves her undefended.

but just as he protects her, she protects him. she stitches up his wounds. she watches over him while he sleeps.

and he does now. the moonlight casts its beams upon his sleeping face. there’s a scar under his eye that wasn’t there in divinity. his hair is tousled. dark rings line his eyes. he is woefully, pitifully, beautifully human.

and humanity suits them.


End file.
